66 Days
by magenta.revival
Summary: The average stay in Rikers is only 57 days, but people don't really know that. Jake, of course, knows that. He's used it before to try to get a confession. He's used a lot of fun facts about this place to try to convince people to just "work with me, please". He always tried to do the right thing.


The average stay in Rikers is only 57 days, but people don't really know that.

Jake, of course, knows that. He's used it before to try to get a confession. He's used a lot of fun facts about this place to try to convince people to just "work with me, please".

He always tried to do the right thing.

He sees them all the time. Familiar faces, and it generally takes him a second to place them. Well, and why shouldn't it? He's sent a lot of people into this place. It helps him form categories in his mind. He remembers how easily Amy managed to fall in with them and make friends. He also remembers that Amy didn't hold the dubious distinction of NYPD officer. She was just some pregnant chick.

Still, you get to know people, kind of. It was unexpected, really. His first day in there is just colors in his memory. He can't pick out a face, a voice, anything familiar. He knows, in his head, that he must have met people. He knows he must have somehow managed to figure out the basics: where to pee, where to sleep…he knows that somewhere along the way he got hit over the head. But he really only remembers re-living, in vivid detail, every second he spent with Lieutenant Hawkins, trying to find some place she had slipped up. He knew the memories wouldn't stay in his mind, he knew he needed to sit in them before he lost important details.

He does remember the 23-year-old who pulled him aside as he was about to sleep that first night. He remembers the gravity in his voice, telling him that former cops were a favorite target for gang initiations. That he might be better off declaring a loyalty sooner rather than later if he wanted to keep himself safe. And that sleeping was probably not a stellar idea, in the meantime.

On the one hand, it was not wholly unlike going undercover, right? It could not be wholly bad to assimilate, all in trying to…

But he had one thing. He was innocent. He didn't want to behave in a way that took that from him.

It was Sirius Black, really, that Jake kept thinking of. How he escaped because he was able to dwell on his own innocence. Not a happy thought, not one they could take from him, just a persistent one.

It didn't take too many times seeing yourself suddenly in a numbered jumpsuit to begin to lose the happy ones. To begin to understand that Amy couldn't wait forever, that the squad couldn't do anything more than they'd already tried for two months to do. Any hope of release was pretty easily quashed by the reality that he currently had to sleep in shifts with a twenty-three-year-old to ensure that neither of them got jumped in the night.

He couldn't help but wonder if this kid, who had started working for Tito Ruiz after his mom was killed in a car wreck, had any idea that Jake had gotten a medal for sending him and his friends to this hellhole.

It wasn't exactly something they talked about. They did talk about other things. Kid was a Mets fan, had grown up going to baseball games before things had gotten hard at home. They argued for the better part of two days about whether Darryl Strawberry was a hero or a villain.

This kid should not be in jail. Not, maybe, in the same way that Jake shouldn't be. But in a way that, frequently when they were talking, was making Jake feel like the guilty one. Even though he knew…

Even though he knew this kid had broken the law. And Jake hadn't. Hadn't done anything but try to clean up the streets. Hadn't done anything but try to make the right decision every day, to do the job that the city needed him to do.

Innocent. He was innocent. Also, it had been 32 days.

He had seen Amy six times. She called it her part-time job, waiting in the tan lobby full of girlfriends and mothers clutching rosary to remind him that he was innocent and that she loved him, and that they were doing everything they could do.

Innocent. He was innocent. Except for the look on her face, which he could have avoided in so many ways. By not loving her, by not leaving her, by not letting her wait for him, by breaking her heart so she would move on. He was not innocent of that.

He would never be. He could walk out of the island tomorrow a free man and still be guilty of causing Amy Santiago to lose faith in the things she cared about most.

You spend your whole life thinking that the people you're putting away deserve this. And maybe some of them do. Tito Ruiz, sure, and guys like him.

But 23-year-old kids like Manny Morales?

You did that, Jake. And what's more, you gloated about it. You laughed at them, used this place to hurt them, to manipulate them. You didn't understand how much this place takes from you, did you?

It is day 49 when he receives word that Lieutenant Hawkins is being investigated. He hears it not from Amy, who has been conspicuously absent for six days, but from a new kid who slumps into the yard on a Tuesday and is looking for him.

"Charles Boyle just arrested me, man"

"I don't know what you want me to say to that" Jake was already in a defensive posture, ready to strike back, knowing how it went with people who knew who he used to be. His ribs ached in dull anticipation.

"He did, though. Got me the shortest sentence he could. Asked the judge to give me a break. Asked them to consider treatment as part of my sentence. Did everything he could to keep me out of here. I'm doing one week, then they got me into this program where I get a part-time job, get to work on getting out of this place. He is the first person's done a thing for me in my life. And I guess that's because of you, then, Jake Peralta."

Jake processed this with no change in his expression. He could picture it, could see Charles beginning to understand how much it changed your life to really, truly go to jail. Could see him trying to protect people from that. Could see him frantically trying to send Jake a message on the inside, a friend who would have his back.

"And another thing. I was in there, they got this punk lady in that they're questioning. Hawkins. Dirty cop or something. I guess she's going to court. I heard them talking about trying to get a confession out of her, make some kind of deal. I don't know, man. Bunch of crazy people working there. Crazy, pregnant lady…" his voice trailed off.

It was day 59 when he was taken off the island, although he did not realize what was happening. They called him in for a court date, it had been two weeks since he'd seen Amy or Charles or Gina or any of them. It was also not his appointment with his defense attorney. It was not any day at all that Jake could put a finger on. And they put him in a van and drove him to the courthouse, and a thousand people were taking a picture of him.

And Rosa was across the parking lot, squinting against the flashes.

And they were in a briefing room with Carl, the DA. Carl, who was talking very fast and not completely making sense. Carl, who was apologizing. Carl, who was looking at Jake like he was expecting a response. Jake, who was outside of his own body, not understanding.

"I'm sorry, Jake. It's part of the job."

"Right. Yeah."

"Really"

"Yep" What was he agreeing to?

And understanding that he and Rosa were here to give testimony against Hawkins. Suddenly, understanding. He walked through the door toward, the stand, and saw Captain Holt and Terry sitting with the prosecution. His lips mumbled through the vow as he looked for Amy.

Did not find Amy.

Testified.

Was back in the van.

Was back in the cell.

Nothing had changed.

Amy had not visited him in three weeks. It was day 66. He didn't talk to Manny as much. He started sleeping soundly, not caring much what happened. It was that afternoon when he was informed that, following resolution in another case, he had been cleared of all charges. The guard said it like an accident, like he wasn't convinced that Jake was anything but deserving of the past two months.

And Jake left. Left in a van, sitting in the front seat this time. Buckling his seat belt and trying to look upstanding. Trying to avoid anything that looked like crime. Unsure of where to go. He asked the driver.

"Courthouse. You gotta sign some stuff"

Terry was there. Jake saw his car in the lot, and looked for him. Read over some papers, angry and frustrated. And then Terry was _there_. He pulled Jake close. He explained the paperwork. He showed Jake where to sign. He brought him into a room where Rosa was sitting, looking as confused as Jake felt. She reached for his hand, her face blank. Terry looked at them both for a few long minutes, and he seemed to be choking up.

"I can't undo the last two months. But there's a lot of people here who have been looking forward to seeing you for a long time. I just…You can get through this. But they need to see you're okay. We're all worried about you."

Rosa's face didn't change, but she let go of Jake's hand. Jake forced a goofy grin on his face. This was the 99. He was _home_.

In the next room, the lights were too bright, so different from the dimmed hallways and buzzing doors. There was elevator music playing, and he smelled some kind of air freshener. It was clean and foreign and made Jake feel like he was both falling back into himself and slipping away from himself. He knew this room. He'd brought paperwork here, in another life. This was a place he knew.

Where Amy was sitting.

Sitting with her left leg in a cast with a scary metal bar bracing along her shin. She looked at Jake as he walked in, seemed to be willing herself to stand and go to him, but he held his hands up.

Knelt in front of her. Grabbed her hands.

"What happened?"

"I was there when we busted her. Doug Judy gave us the lead."

"My Doug Judy?"

"He told me to tell you something about Fievel…"

"It's not important"

"They killed him, Jake."

"They what?"

"He was there when we made the bust. He was about to get away, when he saw Hawkins recognize me. He dove at her, threw me backward. I shattered my leg. She shot him and I'm…"

There are good people. There are bad people. Cops. Criminals. And the lines are very confusing, sometimes.

"here"

"what?"

"you're here. I wondered where you'd been."

"We weren't supposed to have any contact during the trial. Carl said it would make it look like collusion".

"Carl can…"

"Jake….He was just doing his job"

"I know."

"Can I kiss you?" She was tentative, looking at him like she didn't quite know who he was, anymore. He leaned back on his haunches for a second, feeling the rage and disillusionment that had been threatening to break him for 66 days. But this was Amy. This was real. So he kissed her.

And she kissed him.

Charles was, of course, beside himself. He wanted to know if Jake had gotten his message, and they high fived and hugged. Jake managed to say something snappy and braggish, something to make Rikers sound like another daring escapade he could brag about. Like something he was proud of.

Gina was, of course, very pregnant and strangely into yoga. She said something about Jake's chakras that went over his head. Captain Holt was stoic and sorry, Rosa was stoic and exhausted, and Terry seemed to be having a hard time finding words. Was telling Jake that he was asking, as a friend, former CO, and potentially future CO, that Jake go see the counselor Terry had talked to when he'd been on administrative leave. Was the only one who had an inkling of how much had changed.

But it was okay. It was all going to be okay.

And, of course, the story doesn't end there.

They were okay, Jake and Rosa. She never talked about what happened to her in Rikers, but whatever it was made her more determined than ever to catch criminals. She was relentless as ever in interrogation, was almost consumed by her need to do her job.

Jake was different. He no longer found any vindication in putting people away. In fact, he dreaded it. Dreaded court dates and crying girlfriends and weepy moms clutching rosary. Dreaded getting confessions and testifying and know that he was taking people out of the real world, sending them into a bizzaro place that would take everything from them. Knowing there were things they wouldn't get back.

He quit the force. He did it one day, and felt immediately as though a weight had been lifted. A week later, he proposed to Amy, who said yes. A month later, he accepted a spot on De Blasio's task force for prison reform. Eight months later, he successfully got Manny Morales out of prison on probation. A year later, he held his son in his arms for the first time. Three years later, he celebrated as Amy became a captain in the NYPD. Five years later, he attended a press event for the closing of Rikers Island.

It was a good life, all of it. He still got a thrill in his stomach seeing Amy in her dress uniform, still loved hearing Boyle and Rosa talk cop talk. Still held unwavering loyalty to the 99 family. Nothing had changed, except that Jake no longer felt the tension in his belly, the feeling of an unsolved puzzle.

It was the drive that had sent him into the NYPD, into a relationship with Amy, into an undercover mission…and it was a year after his release before he knew how to explain it. It was something that the shrink Terry had recommended told him.

Jake had finally solved the puzzle of how to grow up.


End file.
